


November

by Mareel



Series: Always [48]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Comfort, Destroy Ending, Family, Flashbacks, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Mass Effect 3, Post-War, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9479060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: It always rains in November.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place almost a year after the end of the Reaper war. It begins at the Alenko orchard and continues at Shepard and Kaidan's home in Vancouver. It is Kaidan's voice. 
> 
> Written for Mass Effect Flash Fanworks prompt: Rain

 

If the month of November in Vancouver had a soundscape it would be this – a theme and variations on raindrops splashing on trees and rocks and the roof of the bedroom. 

Sometimes it swells to a crescendo as wind augments the sound of rain pelting against glass and roofing. Most of the time it subsides into the background sounds of daily life, only noticed when it pauses.

It’s like this at the house in the orchard too. I grew up with that soundtrack, and there were many nights it lulled me to sleep, somehow comforting in its repetition, like a mantra. 

I slip back into its rhythm as John and I spend some time there after my father's memorial. That day in early November was blessed with the last of the mild autumn days; the rain began the next day and nearly every day since then has seen at least some rain. 

Generally we stay indoors or on the porch. Sitting on the porch steps, we get splashed occasionally but stay mostly dry as we sip hot spiced cider. I could almost see John growing more comfortable with the the weather by the day, noticing things that I hadn’t thought about in years – like the earthy smell of wet leaves on the ground or the green-grey light that precedes a storm.

Ensconced in Mom's kitchen as she keeps herself busy with baking or putting up preserves, John has been spending a lot of time talking with her. He’s curious about all sorts of things, but it’s often the weather that opens the conversations.

Mom is intrigued by John's early life, one lived on spaceships and stations. All of those places had fixed day/night lighting cycles and, of course, no weather.

"When did you first see rain, John?" 

I’m as curious about his answer as Mom is. He has to think about it, finally deciding that it was on some planet where he and his squad had been sent for training exercises.

"It didn't make that much of an impression on me. We'd seen planets with continuous sandstorms, some whose atmosphere was so toxic you didn’t dare remove your helmet, and some where the precipitation was acidic enough to corrode our hardsuits after fairly short exposure. Rain seemed pretty benign after that."

"And then there was Novaria." I mention, smiling. That frigid snowy planet had been a surprise to me, and John had teased me about being a Canadian unprepared for snow. “I really do wish I'd brought a sweater."

Mom smiles at that. "And your warm boots too, little one."

That night, lying in bed, wrapped up in each other and snuggled under several quilts, we make a point to consciously listen to the steady patter of rain on the roof right above the bed. It comes close to lulling me to sleep, as it had when I was a kid. But suddenly a memory of another rainy November night emerges, unwanted, and I pull John tighter to me and shift to rest my head on his chest, letting his arms shelter me from the vivid flashback: 

_I’m standing outside in a drenching downpour, alone, surrounded by tall trees I couldn’t identify. Fully dressed but soaked to the skin, I turn my face to the sky for a few moments, letting rain wash over my face before bowing my head so the droplets pelted my neck and back. I shudder at the memories evoked by the rain, at my sense of profound loss, and at a loneliness at knowing that this was the only place I dare let myself grieve. The rain would take the tears as well as the sweat of unwashed days and nights…_

“Kaidan? Kaidan, what is it? You’re shivering . And breathing fast. Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing… nothing to worry about. Remembering a bad dream, I guess. Didn’t mean to startle you… you were almost asleep.”

Embarrassed by my reaction, I hope he will accept my reassurance. No stranger to nightmares himself, he doesn’t press me for details. He simply holds me against him, stroking his fingers through my hair until the trembling passes and my breathing evens out. 

We fall asleep that way, and in the morning the rain is just the rain again.

___________________________

 

The rain followed us home from the orchard to Vancouver, never missing a beat in the steady downfall. John seems to be handling it well; he comments more about the increasingly short daylight hours than about the rain. But the soft ground makes it hard for him to use his cane, and this rain isn’t really the kind made for romantic strolls, anyway. 

Sometime in the small hours of the night, I startle awake, heart racing. Trying to calm my breathing, I carefully untangle our legs so I can slip out of bed without waking John. He doesn’t always sleep well, but tonight he seems free of both insomnia and nightmares. I haven’t been that lucky, but don’t want to disturb his sleep with my recurring flashbacks.

Not bothering to dress, I pull one of the extra blankets around me as I go to stand by the glass doors that open onto a small deck. We’ve talked of installing a hot tub there next year, but right now the rain is steadily beating down on the cedar planking. The sky is dark, cloud-covered, and there’s no moon. 

It’s nothing like the noise and chaos of my flashback, except for the rain, sheeting across the deck, But I can’t shake the remains of the dream… another rainy night…

_London… in the the eye of the battle, injured but not worried about that, focussed solely on the man ordering an evacuation. A shouted ‘Take him!’ and the loudly unspoken ‘Keep him safe.’ Trying – and failing – to argue about it, managing only a cry from the heart… ‘Don’t leave me behind!’_

_The rain… water sheeting across a ground littered with the dead and dying… the blackness pierced by an insistent and deadly red beam… I couldn’t be with him, no one to guard his back. He looks back. One last look and then he’s off, running a perilous zigzag toward a beam of white light that seems impossibly far away._

I’m lost in reliving that night… to the point where I don’t realize that John has joined me. He’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants but still looks like he must be cold, leaving a warm bed and all. Without words, I rearrange the blanket I’m wrapped in so that it enfolds us both. He feels warm and solid pressed against my side, an arm wrapped around my waist… it seems to pull me back into today and ground me here. 

“Thanks.” His voice is quiet, but doesn’t sound sleepy. He has that ability to wake to full alert sometimes. “I needed that.” 

“Me too.” He was referring to the blanket, but I’m not. I’m sure he knows that, but I don’t know where to start. Do I need to explain? Can I even explain how much comfort it gives me just to feel him warm and alive and holding me?

We stand together without words, John’s hand rubbing gentle circles on my back. That might relax me enough that I could sleep again. I don’t know… the images are staying with me.

“What are you seeing in the rain?” John’s voice seems to come from far away. 

I try to shake off the sounds and images, turning enough to meet his eyes. “It’s nothing. I’m fine… especially with you here.” 

“Your body says otherwise. The muscle tension and your breathing… Whatever you’re seeing out there, it’s not peaceful.”

I shake my head, trying to relax and to slow my heart rate. “Really., it’s nothing to worry about… just a bad dream. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that leftover pizza just before bed, I don’t know.”

Making sure the blanket stays in place around us, John reaches a hand to my face, his eyes searching mine. “I know a bit about nightmares myself, you know.”

I nod, pressing my cheek against his palm, but I don’t trust myself to say anything without spilling _everything_. He shouldn’t have to deal with my demons and flashbacks. He’s had enough of his own. 

“This isn’t the first time, Kaidan. Something was bothering you that night at the orchard. You said it wasn’t anything, and I let it go. Now it’s another rainy night. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

“Maybe. I don’t know… Nothing to worry about though.” Without thinking about it, my hand has wrapped around… _around his wrist as he tells me that whatever happens… would always love me…_ and I’m back in London again. “I love you, too…”

I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud, not until John somehow makes a connection. I guess those words on that night must have been etched into his memory as deeply they were in mine. “London. It was raining that night, too.”

I squeeze his wrist more tightly, needing the anchor. “Yeah. London. Just before… You remember, too.” It wasn’t a question, but a certainty even before he blinks and looks away for a moment.

“Kaidan, it’s what got me through the rest of the mission that night. Your face, your words… that you loved me… someone to live for…”

My hand drops back to my side as he draws me into his arms. My cheek is pressed against his bare shoulder and I can feel his heartbeat. Alive. Here with me. It’s over... 

“Did it just start? The rain triggering flashbacks to London?”

There’s no way I could deny it, and no point to it. I nod against his shoulder. “Not just London… some are from after…”

“After the end of the war? Oh… after the evac… escaping through the relay?”

“And the planet where the _Normandy_ crash landed. It rained there almost every night. I welcomed it - a chance to be alone.”

“You went out in the rain?”

I lift my head to meet his eyes. “Yeah. To remember… to grieve. I thought I’d lost you. Again.”

His kiss reminds of all I _didn’t_ lose. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having flashbacks? You’ve helped me deal with my nightmares since... ever since the first _Normandy_. And after the war… you’ve always been there to ground me, to remind me that it wasn’t really happening again and again.”

I’m not sure my explanation will make any sense. “You had enough to worry about. I always tried not to ask you to deal with my shit, too. I told you once that I was a fully…”

John interrupts me with another kiss. “'A fully functional human being'. I remember. But Kaidan, it’s different now. We share the good times and the hard times… deal with them together.”

I don’t know what to say and he continues. “Please… let me in. Let me help, if I can. It doesn’t mean you’re less strong if you lean on me sometimes. God knows I’ve leaned on you enough… physically, emotionally… in every way. You’re my strength, Kaidan… let me be yours, okay?”

Not trusting my voice, I nod and murmur that he always has been that. “It’s why I was so messed up, thinking I’d lost you… again.” 

I’m shivering a little, despite the blanket around us. It makes him hold me tighter, sharing his warmth until the trembling passes. 

“C’mon, let’s get back to bed.” John’s voice is somehow both rough and gentle as he turns us away from the window, away from the rain, and offers his hand. I take it gratefully.

I add the extra blanket to the quilts on the bed before curling up beside him with my head on his chest, legs entangled and his arms wrapped around me. My breathing begins to sync to his. 

It’s a little surprising that he doesn’t ask more questions, but I guess I never did… I was there to listen if he needed to talk, offering a touch or a hand to hold if he needed that more. 

There is one thing I haven’t really figured out. “Why now, though? I’ve lived most of my life with rain. Why is it triggering these flashbacks now? It’s been a year...”

He finds my hand and wraps it in his. “That might be why. It’s been nearly a year… in mid-November.”

The moment he says that, I know he’s probably right. I should have realized that. “Maybe so.”

“Well, if it happens again, wake me, okay? Let me help.”. 

“I didn’t have the heart before. Maybe now I will. Thanks... I love you, you know?”

With his cheek resting against my hair, his voice is muffled. “Love you too… always.”

It’s still raining, but that’s okay.

We’re good.

____________________________________________

 


End file.
